The IQ Games: The 125th Hunger Games
by lgkavanagh22
Summary: "As a reminder that not even the brightest among us may escape the power of the Capitol, this year's tributes will be selected based on an intelligence test...On Reaping Day, the highest scoring tributes will be delivered immediately to the custody of the Capitol to be trained in the art of survival in preparation for this year's Hunger Games, the Fifth Quarter Quell."
1. The Announcement

**_A/N: Hello! Welcome to the 125th Hunger Games! I've been dying to write a Quarter Quell, so yes, I changed Panem's history a little bit._**

**_The 75th Games was not made up of previous victors. It was something completely different. So there has been no revolution. The Districts were subdued by the Capitol and calmed down by Peeta and Katniss's wedding. So there has never been a revolution, just some temporary unrest._**

**_President Snow is dead, and has been replaced by a successor._**

**_And on that note, enjoy! :)_**

* * *

I've never liked the fact that broadcasts from the Capitol are required viewing.

I would probably watch them anyways, just to keep myself up to date on what's going on in Panem. But the fact that I'm forced to watch it gives me the slightest urge to just keep myself away from a broadcast.

This one must be about the 125th Hunger Games, the 5th Quarter Quell.

The first Quell involved voting for the tributes. The second Quell saw twice as many tributes. The third Quell was completely weaponless. The fourth Quell was completely sponsorless.

I was anxious to see what the fifth Quell would have in store.

My father and older brother gathered in our District 10 community Square in the middle of town right as the broadcast began. President Lock appeared on the screen.

"Greetings Panem, and welcome to the announcement of the Fifth Quarter Quell!" he said with enthusiasm, as if we were to enjoy the fact that an Ultimate Hunger Games was about to commence.

I'm seventeen years old, and therefore this was my first Quarter Quell, and I must admit I was curious. I saw my brother shake his head with a frown. He'd only just been born before the fourth Quell. Could he remember the horror? Doubtful.

"Let us be remembered of the reason we celebrate the Quell…" President Lock continued.

He proceeded to explain the history of the Quarter Quell. After a more detailed than necessary history of each of the four Quells, he finally opened a small box that sat in front of him.

"Now, let us discover how our forefathers determined we celebrate our fifth Quarter Quell…"

He pulled out an official-looking envelope and delicately opened it.

"As a reminder that not even the brightest among us may escape the power of the Capitol, this year's tributes will be selected based on an intelligence test that was recently given to all eligible tributes. On Reaping Day, the highest scoring tributes will be delivered immediately to the custody of the Capitol to be trained in the art of survival in preparation for this year's Hunger Games."

President Lock slipped the card back into the envelope and concluded the broadcast with a simple, "Thank you. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

The screen blacked out. My father looked nervous. He grabbed my shoulders. "Lila, what did you score on that test?"

His concern surprised me. "I-I'm not sure. They didn't tell us our scores. They didn't even tell us what it was for."

"Did you try your best?"

"Sure. I always do. That's one of the mottos of the District. Give your one hundred percent at all times."

My father's eyes grew wide with worry, then he ran his fingers over his balding head and sighed. "As much as I like to think that you're the smartest girl in the world, for once I just hope that isn't true…"


	2. Robert Biddy

The next few months went on without anyone really giving a second thought to the Quarter Quell. And even when we did, we never felt worried for ourselves, but for others.

Most of my worry was for my boyfriend, Robert Biddy. He's a poultry farmer, and the love of my life.

Luckily, this would be Robert's last year for Reaping, because he's 18. If I could get through these next two years alive then maybe we'll have the opportunity to have a life and family together.

But that'd be if he wasn't selected for the Quell.

Because Robert is smart. Really smart. Probably the smartest guy I know, and I'm not just saying that because I'm in a relationship with him. Not to say that I know every eligible boy in the District, but I knew enough of them to make me concerned.

Not only is he smart, but he's also kind and funny and good at what he does. And the way his light brown eyes light up when he smiles makes my heart skip a beat. Figuratively, of course.

But none of that mattered for this Quell. The only thing that mattered was the score on that test.

About a week before the Reaping, Robert and I were hauling some food to one of the many community barns.

"Reaping's in a week," he commented absent-mindedly.

"Sure is," I replied. "Are you nervous?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I know you're smart, and I know I'm smart, but I don't think we'll be chosen. And I'm not worried for Ruby either. Sweet as can be, but you know my sister…one kernel short of a cob." He threw down the sacks he had been carrying. "Why? Are you?"

I hesitated, and he noticed. He smiled sympathetically and pulled me into a hug. "Lila, I'm not gonna be picked. You're not gonna be picked. Your brother isn't eligible. Everything will be okay."

I nodded, breathing in the musty scent of his shirt. "I know. I'm just scared for you."

He squeezed me tighter. "I'll be fine. I know plenty of guys that definitely scored higher on that test than I did." He let me go and smiled. "I promise."

I smiled back and gave him a quick kiss. "You're the best."

He grinned. "I know."

I laughed and pushed him. "And you always know exactly how to ruin a moment. Now come on, we have to finish this before dusk."

And my worry was gone. For the time being.


	3. A Fateful Envelope

A week later was Reaping Day.

I was wearing a pale pink shirt under my favorite brown vest, a leather vest that was my mother's. My brown pants were reserved exclusively for special occasion such as this, and were the only pair of pants I owned that were not covered in stains and patches. I had my straight, bronze-colored hair pulled to the side and tied with a ribbon my father bought me for today. He was still worried about me getting chosen, and I continued to assure him that I would be alright, but I never seemed to fully convince him.

I saw Robert that morning, and he looked especially handsome, wearing a faded plaid button-down shirt and khaki pants. His auburn hair was combed back, and his eyes were shining brightly with the excitement of his last Reaping.

We ate breakfast together at my house and made small talk, but he could tell that I was still nervous, so he gave up on conversation and just held my hand for another hour as we sat in silence.

Finally, we heard the squawk of the whistle announcing that the Reaping would soon begin.

"I have to head out; I told my mother I'd meet her and Ruby by the check-in. But meet me outside the school afterwards. I have a surprise for you," he said mysteriously before kissing my cheek. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Everything will be okay." And with that, he headed out.

My dad and brother, William, appeared in the room moments later.

"You ready to go?" William asked solemnly.

I nodded. I got up and hugged my dad, then William. Together, we walked to the Square. Everything was set up with grandeur as it is every year. Banners, lights, and a huge stage had appeared overnight and stretched as far as the eye could see.

I had always found this kind of extravagance unnecessary and unfit for the beginning of a competition where the ultimate goal was to kill one another. But it was for the citizens of the Capitol, I supposed.

I checked in and winced slightly as they pricked my finger for blood. Soon, I was standing with the rest of the eligible 17-year-old girls, waiting for our Capitol escort, Vesta Herriot, to announce the District 10 tributes.

But before that, of course we had to suffer through hearing the history of the Games and the Quarter Quell. There was a video about the revolution which, based on the visual effects and editing style, had to have been completed at least 50 years ago, then we re-watched President Lock's announcement about the Quell. It was all quite boring, especially having watched it all before.

Finally, Vesta clapped her hands.

"Now, the time had come to reveal who is the most intelligent among you! Let's find out who will receive the ultimate honor of representing District 10 in the Fifth Quarter Quell!" Vesta screeched into the microphone.

She walked (more like shuffled, as she was heavily restricted by her outfit) over to the clear bowl that contained a single envelope. Her hand daintily grabbed hold of it and she returned to the microphone.

"The lucky lady who will compete for the glory of winning the 125th Annual Hunger Games is…" Vesta opened the envelope slowly, the anticipation building. "Lila Stirk!"

I froze. Me? How could it be me?

"Lila? Come on honey, don't be shy."

My feet felt like boulders as I wove through the sea of girls, then moved slowly towards the stage, surrounded by Peacekeepers. How could this be happening? I know plenty of girls who are smarter than me. But for some reason the test chose me.

Was that test even accurate? Was it legal to discriminate based on intelligence? …Does it matter though? The Capitol can do what they want. They always have.

Questions continued to race through my head as I climbed the stairs to the stage. Volunteers were not allowed for this Quell, so Vesta skipped straight to leading the District in a round of applause for me. I was so numb I barely heard it.

I wanted to look for Robert, look for my dad and William, but I couldn't move. I couldn't take my eyes off the ground as I tried (and failed) to fight back tears. I was as good as dead. I couldn't even hope to win.

I hardly noticed as Vesta opened the envelope that contained the name of the boy.

"Samuel Barrow!"

Samuel Barrow? Judging by the last name, he must be a pig farmer, probably from the middle of the District. As he walked towards the stage, I forced myself to look at him. I could see that he was tall and strong, probably someone who did a lot of work hauling food. He had to be at least 16. If I had to guess, I'd say 17.

And I'd say he actually has a chance of winning. If he was smart, tall and strong, he might actually be able to do it.

Vesta led another round of applause, and then we were whisked away to a room where we would say our final goodbyes.

Final. It's a disconcerting word. It implied that there was no going back, whatever was said would never be changed, it was the last one ever.

But it had just become my reality. Everything I did from this point forward would be…final.


	4. Hugs, Kisses, Tears, and Goodbyes

The room to which I was taken is extremely lavish: perfectly polished wood floor, a huge maroon area rug under a spotless white couch, deep purple drapes, and various fragile-looking objects scattered around on small wooden tables. All this just to send off tributes for slaughter.

There is a sparkling container that holds some pale orange liquid besides various sized glasses. I wish I could try it, but my stomach is turning so much I can hardly stand to look at it.

I sit on the couch for a few minutes before my nerves force me to stand and start pacing. How was I going to be able to manage this next hour of goodbyes?

I didn't have time to answer myself because the door handle turned. I abruptly sat down on the couch and tried to force myself to look content.

My father and William walked in. William never broke his stride as he approached the couch and sat beside me. My father could only take a few steps before stopping and turning around. His shoulder shook with sobs, but he was trying to hide it.

William put his arms around me and I leaned on his strong body. "You'll be okay, alright? Obviously you're smart enough to be picked, so you're smart enough to win. We'll be rooting for you the whole way," he whispered.

"I'm not concerned about myself; I know what my fate is. I'm concerned about you and Dad. Mostly Dad," I whispered back.

We looked over at my father, who seemed to be calming down.

"He'll be alright. He's still got me, I'll try to keep him distracted," William said quietly. "Don't worry yourself about him. Or me. Worry about yourself so you can come home."

My father turned around. His eyes were red and puffy and his cheeks were still damp with tears, but he forced a smile. "Hey, I've got me the smartest daughter in the District," he said.

I recognized that forced smile. It was the same one he tries to pass off every year on the anniversary of my mother's death.

"Yeah, you do. Hopefully you'll have a Victor for a daughter, too," I said. William released his grip on me and I went over to my father. He threw his arms around me and squeezed me tight.

"Please try your best, honey. We want you to come back more than anything," he said, his voice breaking.

"You know I will. Just don't worry about me," I tried to comfort him. I found it strange that I was the one comforting him when I was the one being sent to my death. But I suppose I wasn't the one that had to live after losing a wife and daughter.

Peacekeepers knocked loudly. "One minute," they shouted out in a stiff tone.

My father finally broke down, sobbing loudly. He tried to speak, but couldn't, so William took over.

"Lila, we hate to leave you. But just know that we believe in you, we know you can do it. And we love you, Lila. More than words can say."

William hugged me and kissed the top of my head. My father hugged me next, squeezing me so tight I gasped for breath upon my release.

Our final minute was up, and Peacekeepers led my family away.

I wanted to cry, sob, pass out and not wake up until the sound of the gong. But I fought back tears, knowing I had more emotional goodbyes to say.

My grandmother came in next, not trying to mask her crying. She sat beside me on the couch, rubbing my back and saying over and over what a shame it is.

Then two of my friends came. Their eyes were red, but they just hugged me and tried in vain to cheer me up.

The second to last person was an old teacher of mine, Mrs. Fryer. She hadn't been crying, but she spent the entire time rattling off facts about past Hunger Games and Quarter Quells, something I suspect she thought would help me.

It didn't. It just delayed the moment I had been both looking forward to and dreading since I heard my name called.

The very last person to walk in was Robert.

His hair was no longer slicked back, but was sticking out in all directions. His shirt was untucked and he hands shook slightly as he closed the door.

I didn't hesitate to throw myself in his arms. The tears I had been holding back all day started to stream down my cheeks.

"I'm so scared," I whispered to him.

"I know. But I also know that you know that you can do this. Lila, I've known you since we were kids and no one knows you better that I do. So if I say you can win this, you need to trust that I'm right," he said soothingly.

I nodded, still crying. "But what if I can't, what if-"

"You can. You'll learn quickly. Please just trust me."

I took a deep breath. "Okay."

We sat down on the couch and he held my hand, just like he had that morning. He reached in his pocket. "I still have my surprise for you," he said, smiling weakly.

He pulled out a small box. "For you, my love."

I took it from him and slowly lifted the lid. Laying inside was a simple rope necklace with a charm. I took it from the box and let it dangle. It was a milky white and roughly heart-shaped, with two small letters carved into it- R and L.

"It's bone. From the butcher's. A friend of mine lent me the tools and helped me carve it. I was going to give it to you to celebrate another year without being Reaped, but now…now it can be your token. To remind you that I'll always love you. No matter what," he said as he squeezed my hand. "No matter what."

Tears escaped my eyes at double the pace they had before. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. "I…I…I don't know what to say. I can't say anything. I…I-"

The dreaded knock from the Peacekeepers. "One minute!"

Robert kissed me gently, holding his lips to mine for what seemed like an eternity. But it still wasn't long enough. "I love you, Lila."

"I love you, too," I whispered back.

We stood up and he hugged me until Peacekeepers opened the door.

"Alright, that's time. Let's go."

But he held onto me, kissing me once more.

"I said that's time. Don't make me get forceful, buddy, it won't help anyone."

But he didn't let go.

Finally, a large Peacekeeper pulled him away roughly. I watched him get dragged away from me, noticing for the first time that he had been crying silently. The door slammed shut.

That was the last time I would ever see Robert Biddy.

The last time I would hug him, touch him, hear his voice.

I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe. I could only drop to my knees and sob.


End file.
